Mixed Tape: Side A
by KayleeThePete
Summary: Felicity ended up making a few less than clean hacks after Cooper's supposed death and ends up being coerced into working for ARGUS, and Amanda has the PERFECT partner for her...
1. Chapter 1: Bones

So, yes, I'm a horrible author who takes on FAR more projects than I should at any given time, but that's the way the muse wind decides to blow… This new little monster, my first posted Arrow fic, was born from my dartie and I fangirling over how awesome Goth Felicity was and wondering what Oliver would think if he'd seen her like that, what it would have been like if they had met back then… So, of course, I couldn't help myself… Thus along came this undertaking because it was too awesome for me NOT to write and right now it's a much less traumatizing version of Arrow-verse than what they're putting us through on the show. The title of the story comes from "Mixed Tape" by Jack's Mannequin, and each chapter will be titled after a song. This first chapter is "Bones" by MS MR. The premise is basically Felicity didn't handle losing Cooper quite as well as she did on the show and ended up in ARGUS' sights. Amanda decides to not only put her skills to "good" use but to use her as more leverage to control Oliver… And thus our story begins…

Disclaimer: Maybe if I knew how to hack like Felicity I'd find a way to own Arrow, but yeah…that's not going to happen… XD I do not own Arrow or any of the characters or any of the songs used or quoted in this story, they all belong to their respective owners. No profit is being made off of the production of this. I'm just having a little fun playing in the proverbial sandbox… The title of this chapter and the lyrics are from the song _Bones_ by MS MR.

Dartie…what have we done?! XD

(My dartie's response to this was: "Something amazing, dartie, something AMAZING. XD" And I can't disagree. XD)

-ARROW-

**Mixed Tape: Side A**

**Chapter 1: Bones**

_Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone  
>Boy with a broken soul<br>Heart with a gaping hole  
>Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality<br>Kissing death and losing my breath  
>Midnight hours cobble street passages<br>Forgotten savages, forgotten savages_

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone  
>Let her find a way to a better place<br>Broken dreams and silent screams  
>Empty churches with soulless curses<br>We found a way to escape the day

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone  
>Lost in the pages of self-made cages<br>Life slips away and the ghosts come to play  
>These are hard times<br>These are hard times for dreamers  
>And love lost believers<p>

Candybar creep show  
>My highs hit a new low<br>Marinate in misery  
>Like a girl of only 17<br>Man-made madness  
>And the romance of sadness<br>A beautiful dance that happened by chance  
>Happened by chance, happened by chance<p>

_This is the biggest mistake of my life_, Felicity Smoak inwardly groaned. Well, technically it was the second…or third…ya know, 'cause there were the mistakes that landed her in this position in the first place and all… She buried her face in her hands with an audible groan this time. She supposed that her downward spiral could be attributed to the loss of Cooper, but creating that virus in the first place…yeah, probably best to figure she just generally had poor judgment… Boy, had she screwed up.

"_You have a choice, Ms. Smoak." The woman who'd introduced herself as Amanda Waller smirked at the young woman who had, only moments earlier, been handed her diploma from MIT, _summa cum laude_. "You can either go to federal prison for the rest of your life…or you can come to work for me and have those little infractions forgotten."_

A snort escaped Felicity at the memory. Oh yeah…she had a choice… _Some frickin' choice_.

She dragged a hand through her purple-streaked black hair, well, at least she could say she was maintaining her own individuality and sense of style even as she was now trapped by this possibly government or not-government, but definitely off-the-books, black-ops agency. She gave herself a half-hearted mental fist-pump.

Felicity's head snapped up as the door handle rattled, alerting her that someone was coming in. Just as it opened she leapt to her feet, unsure of who or what—was that ever a cliché—might come through, but preferring to be on her feet to face them…or it.

Waller strode in, as striking as ever, looking down on Felicity with that smirk that pissed the hacker off more than she knew she could be. A movement behind the other woman drew Felicity's attention, and her eyebrows shot up her forehead.

Well, she wasn't sure you could get someone any more different from Waller than the person accompanying her. Not only was he male, and thus the opposite of Waller's gender, but he had a long, shaggy blond mane that reached his shoulders with a nearly full beard, his clothes were a T-shirt and cargo pants and beat-up boots; his all-around scruffiness a stark contrast to Waller's perfectly coifed, pressed, business-suited self. And then there was his build, tall and well-muscled, if the corded lines of his arms were anything to go by, versus Waller's—likely deceptively—slender build. But what _really_ caught Felicity's attention was his eyes, sharp, blue, super intense, he couldn't be more than a couple of years older than her but those eyes…they carried the weight of seeing_ far_ too much. Felicity had no qualms admitting to herself that the man was hot, beyond hot, like…light-years beyond hot… God, she hoped that her lacking brain to mouth filter didn't let _that_ thought through…

"Congratulations," Waller's tone was less congratulatory and more smug, "you two are going to be working together." She gestured between Felicity and the man at her side just inside the door.

"Is this really necessary?" the man growled through gritted teeth, those blue eyes she'd just been admiring gave her a once-over, looking unimpressed by what he saw.

"I think it is," Waller told him, smirk possibly even wider.

"She's a civilian, she'll get in the way," he bit out.

"_Excuse me_," Felicity snapped, offended, "'She's' right here, and I'm smarter than both of you combined, and can hack into pretty much _any_ network." She tilted her chin up defiantly and, as best she could manage given how much taller he was than her, looked down her nose at him. "I don't even know what you _do_."

His gaze cut to her sharply. "I beat people and put arrows in them."

Her eyebrows relocated to her hairline, not sure whether or not he was being serious.

"And he's quite good at it too," Waller put in; God, Felicity _really_ hated that smirk.

Well, that answered as to whether or not he was serious…but arrows…_really_?!

"What?" Felicity questioned sarcastically. "They run out of knives at Rambo school?"

She really should be much more scared of the glare he was giving her right then, what with her knowing that he kills people and could probably break her in half with his pinky and all, but she was just too pissed-off at his dismissive attitude. And she was definitely _not_ going to pay _any_ attention to the look that screamed "shut up" that he was giving her.

"Well, it looks like you two are making friends, I'll just leave you to it." Waller sashayed out the door, leaving the other two occupants of the room to watch her go.

Silence hung heavy for interminable moments.

"So," Felicity began, waiting until the man was done glaring at the door that'd just closed behind Waller, "what's your name?"

Piercing blue eyes snapped to her, gaze shuttered. "Archer," he finally said after a drawn out pause.

She raised both of her eyebrows at him, head cocking to the side, conveying her disbelief.

His expression gave nothing away. "What's yours?"

"Hacker," she shot back snarkily.

"Listen…"

Was his voice permanently growly or something? Felicity wondered idly.

"…when we're on an op, do as I say and stay out of the way."

Her mouth dropped open, now _truly_ offended. "Hey," she strode forward and poked his chest with one finger, "you should be nicer to me! And you shouldn't underestimate me! With a few keystrokes I can ruin your life!"

His mouth twisted into a bitter facsimile of a smile. "Most of the world, including everyone that I care about, thinks I'm dead…"

Her hand fell to her side, ire fading at his biting but honest admission.

He turned on heel, starting toward the door. "Not much left to ruin," he tossed over his shoulder.

Felicity continued to stare after Archer long after he'd disappeared through the door. Who the hell was that guy…and what the _hell _had she gotten herself into?!

-ARROW-

Oliver thought that he might've lost count of the number of times he felt the burning desire to put an arrow in Amanda Waller. He kept thinking that he couldn't hate her more and then she'd go and prove him wrong.

"_I have a new partner for you."_

_Oliver _really_ hated that smirk of hers. "I don't _need _a new partner," he growled out between his teeth as he followed her down the hallway, shoving thoughts of and guilt over Maseo away._

"_Maybe not another person with a similar skill set to yours but that's not what she is. She has a very _different_ skill set. One that I think will be useful. She has a degree in computer science and engineering and is quite the accomplished little hacker."_

_He narrowed his eyes stopping abruptly. "I don't need another person to have to look out for on ops, and I don't need a babysitter, if she's supposed to—"_

_Waller stopped just ahead of him, spinning on the spot to face him. "I think you could use the help for certain aspects of your operations. And while she isn't here completely voluntarily she is cooperating with us for her own reasons. And as for you, you know how this goes, you try to escape, try to contact any of your family or friends, or refuse to work with us…we kill her."_

Oliver didn't know what he was expecting "her" to be like, but the young woman, who looked maybe only a couple years older than his sister would be now—he pushed aside the sudden spike of pain at the thought of Thea—certainly wasn't even in the realm of his imagination. She was perhaps 5 and a half feet tall, maybe less, dwarfed by his own 6'1" frame, long black hair streaked with purple spilling around her shoulders. Her face, likely already fair, was made even paler by makeup and the fluorescent bulbs overhead, causing her dark lipstick to stand out starkly, and her kohl-rimmed, bright blue eyes to really pop. The silver ring in her nose glistened, and he could make out more rings around her ears through her hair, while the cross-like symbol hanging from the cord around her neck shone against the black of her long-sleeved shirt. Her hands—most of the fingers adorned with silver rings—had smoothed down her tan cargo pants nervously, belying the fearless façade she was trying to maintain.

His first thought was that she radiated an innocence, it was perhaps battered and injured but definitely still there… With all of her dark clothing and heavy makeup she looked like a little girl trying to appear tougher than she was, their world would chew her up and spit her out. And he actually had to fight to hold onto that determination, that disdain, to that safe distance for the first time in a long time. But there was something about her, something about that innocence that was so very tempting, calling to him like a moth to flame. And then the fire leapt in her eyes, the steel that ran beneath the surface asserted itself, and she glared at him fearlessly… Oliver didn't want to be impressed, didn't want to feel even more drawn to her, but he was and he did, and he knew he had to crush those feelings, ignore them, do whatever he could to get rid of them, because they were dangerous. And not exclusively to him.

For all of the arguing he'd done with Waller to try to keep the girl—Hacker as she'd told him to call her—out of the field it'd done nothing. With that obnoxious smirk she'd told him to get his ass and Hacker's out on the op, and shoved the folder in his hands.

So that was why he was now standing in this derelict building across the way, waiting for the girl to hack the security system of their target's building.

"So…" Hacker kept her gaze on the screen but watched him out of the corner of her eye, "how did _you_ end up in this indentured servitude?"

Oliver grit his teeth, staring out the window. "I died."

She turned her gaze on him, waiting, and when nothing else was forthcoming she rolled her eyes. "Well, _that's_ illuminating. Tell me," she tapped away on her laptop, "did you ever speak in sentences of more than five words or were you just born monosyllabic?"

Clutching his bow, he glared at her over his shoulder, but it was getting harder and harder to keep her at arms-length even after such a short time. The sassy, sarcastic tech Goth beside him was just somehow so…endearing. Oliver shook those thoughts off, he had to keep his distance, for both of their sakes; Waller had a gun pointed at the girl's oblivious head and letting her close would be deadly…for them both.

But that fact, for some reason, still didn't stop the following from leaving his mouth. "How did you get into Waller's crosshairs?"

Her own expression shuttered. "I wasn't being careful enough while hacking the wrong system…ARGUS' to be precise." She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, eyes still focused on the screen. "They had other dirt on me as well. It was this or prison." Her computer beeped. "Got it!" She typed away a bit longer before snapping the lid of her laptop shut, shoving it into her backpack and swinging it across her shoulders as she stood. "We're in."

Oliver had to work hard to hold in his grimace at that, taking her elbow and directing her toward the door, hating the necessity that forced him to bring her—a weaponless, untrained asset—into a building that had dozens of guards armed to the teeth. "Stay close to me and don't speak unless I tell you it's all right," he rapped out the orders, ignoring her glare. "We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention."

"Fine, bossy," Hacker huffed, but still allowed him to direct her from the room, down the hall and out of the building.

He guided her toward the building across the street by way of every shadow and object they could conceal themselves behind. She was ungainly, movements choppy—God, he hoped no one was watching from any windows, even in the dark her sharp movements would draw attention—and Oliver kept her behind him as best he could. They reached the back of the building, he scanned the ledge above them for the spot he knew…there! Drawing a very specific arrow, he nocked it and drew back, aiming with the same speed and accuracy the island had burned into his muscle memory. The grappling line gripped in his hand, Oliver tucked his bow into the holder on his back and reached out with his now-free arm for the young woman beside him.

Her kohl-lined eyes were as large as saucers as she looked up at him. "_Please_ tell me you aren't going to do what I _think_ you're going to do?!"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he glared at her.

"_Are you out of your arrowing mind_?!" she whisper-screeched.

He didn't budge, just intensified his glare.

Hacker's jaw set and she met his look mulishly, hands clinging to the straps of her bag.

They stood there locked in a stalemate for long moments.

"There's no other way," Oliver finally ground out between gritted teeth.

After another moment of stubbornly compressing her lips, finally she huffed and stepped toward him. "Fine."

As he wrapped his arm around her waist, Oliver tried _very_ hard to ignore the feeling of her pressed against him—he hadn't let himself think of any woman like that since his brief affair with Shado—her own encircling his neck. He noticed how she was trembling and her eyes darted around: she was scared, not of him, but of what they were about to do, and in all honesty he _was_ asking her to put a rather substantial level of trust in him, when they quite obviously didn't have _any_ to split between them.

"I've done this before," he told her gruffly, trying to reassure her somewhat. "Just hold onto me tightly."

"You know," she remarked in a wavering voice, eyeing the ledge above their heads, "I always imagined a super hot guy saying that to me under different circumstances."

He turned his head to look at her, her own whipped to meet his gaze, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "Purely platonic…circumstances…" she quickly added.

It took a few moments before he could break their stare, eyes focusing back on his task. "Hold on," he mumbled once more, and he felt her arms tighten around his neck.

-ARROW-

Felicity wished she could say that she maintained a stoic silence through the experience, but a small "eep" escaped her as they were abruptly lifted off the ground by the ascension device. To muffle any further noises she pressed her face into the joint of his neck and shoulder—and _nope_, she most definitely _wasn't_ going to think about how his skin felt pressed against her cheek or how good he smelled. She felt herself slide a little, but it couldn't have been more than an inch, those muscles that she could feel under Archer's clothes obviously weren't just for show, the corded strength of his arm around her waist keeping her relatively immobilized against his side. Her own hands had a death-grip on his neck and she _refused_ to look down.

Archer curved his body in a way so that he could hook his feet on the wide ledge of a tall window on the top floor. "Put your feet on the ledge," he breathed into her ear.

Felicity had to bite back the shiver that wanted to cascade down her spine, reminding herself that this was _seriously_ not the time for such inconvenient feelings and that he was only trying to stay as quiet as possible. She stretched her feet out to do as he instructed, managing to get the toes of her black high-top Converses on the surface, with some fumbling and shuffling and Archer's own form drawing her forward she was able to get her soles on it entirely. However, even with her feet now on a flat plane she knew she wouldn't be able to get herself fully onto the ledge with her admittedly lacking musculature.

That became a moot issue when Archer used his own strength to pull them both upright on the ledge, bracing them, her body between his and the window, in the small space.

The computer specialist was acutely aware of the fact that all that separated her from the ten-story sheer drop was a stretch of cement no wider than her feet were long, and Archer's body. It was terrifying, but soon Felicity found that there was absolutely no give in his frame, even as she swayed against him he didn't budge an inch, and something in her somehow immediately relaxed, trusting him not to let her fall.

Archer pulled something out of a pocket and reached around her, looking over her shoulder she could just barely make out his black-gloved hands using shiny implements on what appeared to be the lock. After a few seconds there was a click and he pushed the window open. "Get in," he instructed, and for once she was _most _ happy to oblige his orders.

Felicity let out a sigh of relief when her feet were planted on the nice, solid, non-sheer-drop-off floor of the office. He swung himself into the room, landing on the floor with hardly a sound—damn, ninja skills, she inwardly grumbled—and lowered the window just enough that it appeared closed to a quick scan, but made sure it was just shy of closing—man, Felicity wasn't looking forward to the eventuality of using that as their escape-route.

"Let's go," she quickly said before he could—yes, it was petty, but she'd take her kicks where she could get them.

He held her back from the door, forcing her behind him, much to her annoyance. Archer met her glare with one of his own, mouthing "wait" before inching carefully up to the door, he turned the handle with such care and eased it open slowly, smoothly, keeping them both pressed against the wall as he scanned the hallway outside. Felicity mentally huffed, but reluctantly admitted to herself that he was the better of the two of them to lead since he knew how to sneak around and be all tactical. Finally Archer drew her out of the room with him, closing the door soundlessly behind them before leading the way down the hall to their destination, a room cut-off from the network but still drawing an obscene amount of power.

They reached the door they were looking for, the keypad lock for the door the only security measure in the building still actually working, since she'd shut down the rest of the system—though the building security thought that it was still operational since she'd made sure it would _look_ like it was, however this particular measure was on a system all its own. Felicity bent over by the pad and went to work. Archer stood behind her, his back to hers keeping a look-out while she was preoccupied with hacking the lock. Carefully opening the pad she studied the wiring and circuitry, finally taking a couple of cords from her backpack along with her precious laptop—it was a _very _nice computer they'd handed to her before Waller sent them out on the op (look at her getting all tactical with her lingo) and she was going to call him K-9 if they let her hang onto him—and connected her computer to the pad.

"How long?" Archer's voice was barely even audible to her.

"Three minutes," she whispered back, fingers flying over the keys on her computer, "tops."

-ARROW-

Tension had Oliver's body strung tighter than his bowstring. They were too exposed. It was a long, straight hallway, stretching out on both sides of them, with no cover and no external windows…no escape. His ears pricked to a soft sound.

Footsteps.

Getting closer.

"Hacker…" he growled out the warning under his breath, glancing back at her as he drew an arrow.

Her own eyes had flicked in the direction of the approaching noise, worry visible, though her fingers never paused. "Patience is a virtue…" she told him in a soft, sing-song voice.

Nocking the arrow and drawing it back, he grit his teeth. "Not right now it isn't."

A choked sound escaped her before she stifled it and then her breath caught at a soft beep. "We're in."

Oliver kept the arrow aimed in the direction of the approaching enemy, behind him Hacker closed her laptop and pulled the cord from the pad, slapping it closed, before pushing the door open. He backed into the room behind her and carefully closed the door, gripping her arm, not letting her move for a few moments while he listened.

The footsteps grew closer and closer…and passed the door without pausing. Oliver released a relieved breath, finally letting go of Hacker's arm and replacing the arrow in his quiver.

She made a show of glaring at him and rubbing her arm—unnecessarily, he _knew_ he hadn't gripped it hard enough to hurt—before heading over to a terminal on a desk in the middle of the room full of…computer stuff… Yeah, Oliver had no illusions about the limits on his technological know-how, and there certainly had been very little use for it on the island so he was _far_ behind current technology.

Hacker immediately went to work, typing away before pulling from her bag what she'd informed him, in an exceedingly patronizing voice, was an external hard drive and plugging it in. "This should only take a couple of minutes," she murmured, anticipating his question.

Still gripping his bow, he kept his gaze on the door. This room wasn't as exposed as the hall with the towering shelves to hide behind, but the walls were impervious to his explosive arrows, leaving them no other way out, if guards got in here it'd be shooting fish in a barrel.

"Ok," Hacker finally said, "that's all saved, now to erase all evidence we were ever here…"

Oliver was growing antsier with every second that passed with them still in this building.

"Done!" She pumped a fist in the air—he really shouldn't find that as adorable as he did.

Barely giving her enough time to shove the cords, hard drive and laptop into her backpack, Oliver grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the door, cracking it the barest amount.

After several moments of listening closely for any noise, he fully opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible. With the same caution he'd used the entire night, Oliver led Hacker through the door and out into the hall. With quiet footsteps—hers a little less so, but then that wasn't exactly her fault, he admitted to himself, since she'd never learned how to move as quietly as Oliver had been forced to—they moved as quickly as possible back to the room with their escape route.

There was the loud clicking of a gun cocking from behind them and shouts in Mandarin.

Oliver yanked Hacker to the ground with him and, as he spun to face the threat, dragged her behind him, the bullets from the guards' weapons whizzing by above their heads. Oliver could already see them adjusting their aim, but the island had taught him to be faster. The first arrow was embedded in the nearest guard before their next round of gunfire had gotten even half a foot closer to Oliver and Hacker, with two more following in rapid succession dropping two others. This made the other guards, further away down the hall, more cautious and they ducked into rooms. The time it took them to open the doors and get in, bought the pair enough time for Hacker to open the nearest door with outside access and for them to duck inside. They locked the door before running over to the windows; this wasn't the same room as earlier, Oliver opened the window and stuck his head outside to glance in the direction of where his rig should be. It was one window over. He pulled his head back in and turned to Hacker who was white knuckling the straps of her backpack. "You're going to hate this."

Her eyebrows shot up. "More than how we got in?"

"We're going to have to climb from this window to the one next door."

Oliver was fairly certain she paled more than under the fluorescents before and her eyes flew wider. "Are you—" The sound of pounding on the door followed by bullets being shot at it cut her off and had her surging toward Oliver. "Let's go!"

He boosted her through the window first, making sure she was steady enough before following her out. They shuffled as quickly as was safely possible along the ledges, Oliver trying to keep an arm across her back to help steady her. When they came to the gap between the window they were on and the one next door, she froze.

"Hacker, don't look down!"

"Too late!"

He cursed fluently.

Just then Oliver could hear the guards bursting through the door in the other room. No time. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, her own arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. "Hold on tight." He lunged the remaining distance, grabbing the grappling line as he did so, his feet barely had time to touch the other ledge before he pushed them off.

The terrified scream that escaped Hacker was muffled in his shoulder and blown away in the rush of air as they rapidly descended. The moment their feet touched the road, Oliver was already running, dragging Hacker with him, all the while shielding her as best he could from the bullets and ricochets.

"Keep going," he shouted in her ear once she'd found her feet and didn't need him practically carrying her.

She was doing a fair job of keeping up, but he could tell she was flagging. They needed an out _now_.

As if conjured by his thoughts, a dark SUV screeched to a halt in front of them then the door flung open and an agent he recognized shouted, "Get in!"

The pair dove into the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind them while they slumped into their seats, panting, as the driver took off, tires squealing.

"So," Hacker began conversationally between heaving breaths, "is it…always…like this?"

Oliver just about had his breathing back under control. "Pretty much."

"_Fantastic_."

-ARROW-

So there it is, my friends! The first chapter of this new monster I've created. XD I'm both excited and terrified to see where it goes! :-D I have SO MUCH planned for our couple and the road they take together. ;-) Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think! :-D


	2. Chapter 2: Life for Rent

I need to thank everyone for the overwhelming response to this fic so far! :-D I'm loving it and am having so much fun with planning things to come! So you probably noticed the slight change in the title, I decided that since this is going to be a rather long story I'm going to break it up into parts and put them all together in a series under the title "Mixed Tape" so that's why this one is "Mixed Tape: Side A". So, with all of the pain that Arrow the show is putting us through right now, and most specifically with the Olicity ship, I have been retreating quite a bit into the Mixed Tape universe and spending time in the alternate Arrow holidays universe with my dartie. XD For those who also read my Once Upon a Time stories, don't worry I AM continuing BOTH of those and the next chapter of Once Upon a Time…and Again is in the process of being written! :-D

Dartie…what would I do without you? XD *BIG hugs* Thank you for being my friend, the best beta, partner in crime, and dartie!

Disclaimer: I own Arrow season 1 Blu-ray set, and am saving for season 2…that's about all I own. XD This chapter is titled after "Life for Rent" by Dido.

-ARROW-

**Mixed Tape**

**Chapter 2: Life for Rent**

_I haven't really found a place that I call home  
>Never stick around quite long enough to make it<br>I apologize that once again I'm not in love  
>But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking<br>It's just a thought, only a thought_

_But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy  
>Well I deserve nothing more than I get<br>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine_

_I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea  
>To travel the world alone and live more simply<br>I have no idea what's happened to that dream  
>'Cause there's really nothing left here to stop me<br>It's just a thought, only a thought_

_But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy  
>Well I deserve nothing more than I get<br>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine_

_While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down  
>While I am so afraid to fall so I won't even try<br>Well how can I say I'm alive_

_But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy  
>Well I deserve nothing more than I get<br>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine_

Waller loved screwing with them, Felicity decided. Because there was just no other explanation for _this_.

Stepping into the shitty little apartment—if it could really be _called_ an apartment—behind Archer, she scanned the space, taking in the grungy walls, linoleum floors that were probably from the sixties, and sparse lighting coming from a flickering overhead bulb in the main space and what was filtering through the grimy windows behind the sagging couch. To her left, through a flimsy curtain, Felicity could make out an itty-bitty bathroom; she wondered how the hell they'd even managed to fit the shower, sink and toilet into it. A glance to her right revealed the kitchen area with a short counter, micro-fridge, convection oven, single burner, barely-there sink and single cabinet—no coffeemaker, Waller was _truly_ cruel—she eyed the appliances, which looked older than she was, more likely to be fire hazards than any actual use.

The thud of Archer dropping his bag on the ground startled her out of her mental inventory.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."

This had Felicity's head whipping around to take in the rest of the room. There was a rather old-looking, twin-sized mattress—she was definitely _not_ going to think about how many people had slept on it or what might've been _done _on it; oh _God_, she couldn't think about _that _with a really hot man standing only feet from her and a bed in a room she now knew they'd be sharing—sitting on a small platform off to the side, and other than the bathroom—a term she used _very_ loosely—there were no actual doors or other physical dividers in the space. Waller had placed two people who hardly knew each other and were _barely_ even getting along together in a crappy studio apartment with one shitty twin-sized bed and a couch that Felicity wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. Amanda Waller had officially reached a new level on Felicity's shit-list.

A quick comparison of the length of the couch to his height had her shaking her head. "No, you can't. You're too tall!" In truth the man was also too tall for the twin—what was he, part giant?!—but at least it wouldn't be as great of a discrepancy or as uncomfortable.

"It's fine," he muttered.

"No, it's not! I can take the couch, I'm smaller and will be less un—"

"Hacker!" he cut in, not unkindly.

Her mouth snapped shut.

His eyes were locked on hers as he assured her, "I'll be just fine. I've slept on worse."

After a few moments of debating fighting him on this as she watched him arrange his bag and weapons around the couch as he wanted them, Felicity finally let out a huff and turned to the bed. She carelessly dumped her sports bag full of clothes on the ground, placing her backpack with her electronics much more gently on the mattress.

The hacker spun on the spot, eyeing the space distastefully before moving over to the only cabinet in the kitchen and opening it. Three mismatched plastic glasses, a tea cup, a coffee mug from a diner called "Murry's", one plain plastic plate and another with cartoon dinosaurs on it, a ceramic bowl, and a package of disposable cutlery that appeared to be missing most of its spoons were all she found. The micro fridge held a single jar of moldy mayonnaise, and the appliance had been left sitting unplugged for who knew how long and smelled rancid. A search of the minute medicine cabinet in the bathroom revealed one used toothbrush and a bar of soap with a pubic hair on it. Felicity slammed it shut, uncaring if she broke the distorted mirror on the front—she didn't—and stormed into the main space.

Planting her hands on her hips, she disgustedly announced to her new roommate, "We have _nothing_, here!"

Archer straightened up, turning to face her.

"No food," she began ticking off on her fingers, "no shampoo, no conditioner, no toothbrushes, no toothpaste, no cleaning supplies—which we _need_, this place is _disgusting_—_nothing_!" Felicity waved her arms around in a violently sweeping gesture. "And Waller expects us to make this place _habitable_ on the moronically meager stipend that she's given us?! It won't even _begin_ to cover the necessities!"

She hadn't really noticed Archer crossing the room until his hand was on her shoulder and he was calling firmly, "Hacker!"

This again proved effective in cutting off her rambling rant.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his share of the money they'd been given and pressed it into her palm. "Get us food and anything else you think is necessary. As far as mops and buckets and rags, let me worry about those."

"How the heck are you going to buy those things without any money?!"

"I know someone." He strode back over to his belongings, pocketing a few items that she couldn't see before heading to the door.

"Who? The black market Martha Stewart?"

He ignored that comment, instead saying, "There's a shop two blocks south and one block east. They should have everything you need." The door shut behind him with a muted click.

"Bye," Felicity snarkily replied to the closed door.

-ARROW-

Two hours later Felicity was trudging back up the steps to the rat-hole that Waller had the gall to call an apartment. First thing she'd done was find the cheapest coffeemaker she could and made it her "splurge" buy, along with the best coffee she could afford on the menial budget they were on; the stuff from hospitals would probably taste like ambrosia compared to this crap, but it'd suffice until their next "payday" when she should be able to afford better. The food she bought ended up having to be pretty cheap and low-quality because of the coffeemaker and cleaning and hygiene supplies, but, again, it would suffice until Waller gave them their next allotment.

As Felicity opened the door to their apartment, her nose wrinkled at the pungent odors drifting up from the noodle shop that was below their place. Well that was going to be _super_ pleasant always having that wafting up to them. Inside she found Archer had returned from wherever the hell he'd been with the promised buckets, mop, broom and dustpan, plus rags and sponges. Her eyebrows shot up. "Where the hell did you go? Cleaning-Supplies-'R-Us?"

He gave her a look. "I told you, I know someone."

She dropped her bags of booty—oh, hell, did she _really_ just think that?! Don't think of his ass, don't think of his ass—onto the floor, and planted her hands on her hips, cocking an eyebrow at him. "And you somehow manage to make procuring cleaning supplies sound like some shady back alley deal. Is there, like, some black-market on Swiffer items?"

As he dropped his head, Felicity caught sight of his lips twitching in a way that _may_ have been him fighting a smile… Holy cripes! Her jaw dropped. "Was that a smile? Does the big bad archer actually know how to _smile_?!" She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide at that slipping out. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I mean seriously, it was rude and I don't want to piss you off or something because that could make things even more difficult what with us living together—I mean, not _living together_ living together, you know just…living together. Cohabitating. Two people, two adults, who happen to be of opposite sexes, sharing a common living space—and good _God_, stop me now…3…2…1…"

Thankfully he didn't look offended, more bemused…and was that possibly a flicker of amusement? "Someone I know was willing to lend us the supplies, all they asked was that we replace what mop heads, rags and sponges we use before returning them."

Felicity nodded her head vigorously. "Right. 'Course. Totally will do that, it being the polite thing and all…" Rubbing her hands nervously up and down her thighs, she glanced at the bags behind her. "How about we divide and conquer, you can start in the kitchen—thankfully we don't have any perishables yet, but we'll need to get that fridge clean and running stat—and I'll decon the bathroom."

"All right," he agreed quietly.

With a decisive nod, Felicity pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and then started pulling her long black and purple hair back into a high messy bun.

"Hacker?"

She turned back at Archer's questioning tone.

"What's a…Swiffer?"

Her eyes bugged out and her arms dropped from her half-finished bun. "You don't know what a Swiffer is?! What planet have you been on?!"

He lifted one shoulder, looking away. "It was an island, actually."

Felicity studied him for a moment. "When you say 'island', I take it you don't mean Tahiti, do you?" She kept her voice as light and casual as possible.

Archer finally focused on at her, a wry curve to his lips and a guarded amusement in his eyes. "Not exactly."

She took in his body language and scanned back through her memories of him so far, cataloging it all before nodding and giving him a warm smile. "Well, we'll have to start rectifying any lacking aspects of your pop-culture education once we get this place actually habitable."

He slowly nodded, posture still guarded but quiet delight and relief definitely in his eyes. "Sure."

Felicity flashed him a bright grin before turning back to do battle with that toxic waste dump of a bathroom. It was a promising start for things with Archer.

-ARROW-

Oliver decided that his new roommate was quite the enigma, and under some circumstances a bit of a contradiction.

While his head was stuck inside the disgusting-smelling fridge—how did a fridge even get to smell like that?! What did they keep in there, a dead body?! Oliver paused a moment, realizing that with Waller that was entirely possible—a piercing shriek rang out, nearly making him crack his head on the top of the fridge in his rush to locate the threat. He was on his feet and at the door to the bathroom in seconds…only to find Hacker standing on the lid of the toilet, still screaming and pointing at the shower saying over and over, "Get rid of it! Get rid of it!"

A rat sat in the corner of the narrow stall eying her, unimpressed. Oliver sighed, his rapidly beating heart beginning to slow as he pulled out a knife and moved toward the rodent.

Suddenly her cries changed. "Don't _kill_ it!" Hacker protested, eyes wide with horror. "It's not _his_ fault—or her fault, I suppose it could be. I wonder how you tell…?"

Oliver quirked an incredulous eyebrow at her. How the hell did this girl keep surprising him? And how did her desire to not harm the animal, even though she was obviously deathly afraid of it, make her even more endearing to him? Perhaps it was the flash of memory he had of the first time he was forced to kill a living thing, the bird on the island, so _very_ long ago…

With a sigh he told her to hold on a moment, slipping the knife back into his boot before heading over to his belongings. He returned, pulling on thick leather gloves before moving over to the unperturbed rat and picking him up by the scruff of the neck, which finally _did_ perturb the animal; it began to writhe and emit high-pitched squealing noises as he walked over to the door, down the stairs, and released the animal into the alley next to their building. Hacker gave him a brilliant smile upon his return with a happy, "Thanks!"

Oliver tried to ignore dormant emotions her reaction to something so mundane stirred in him.

Three hours later Hacker finally exited the bathroom, declaring it properly cleaned, turning her attention next to the main space with a resigned sigh and then refilling the bucket with fresh water—what'd been left from cleaning the bathroom had gone down the drain in a brown/black swirl—and bleach before she started scrubbing every vertical surface in the space, opening the windows along the way to let some—relatively—fresh air in.

Oliver was still working on the kitchen space since every time he'd thought he was done, she'd pointed out something he'd missed. Once she'd finally declared the actual space clean he moved on to the dishes—"Who the hell _knows_ the last time anyone actually cleaned them," she'd pointed out, her nose wrinkling adorably. When he'd was finished with that, she shoved a rag and bottle of Windex into his hands and told him to get the windows clean enough that they could actually _see_ through them, while she set about mopping the floor. Oliver learned more in that day about cleaning than he had in the entire prior 24 years of his life. Raisa would be proud. He pushed that thought away, the pain at the reminder of his loved ones back in Starling too acute.

Oliver found himself not only cleaning the inside of the windows but also climbing outside onto the fire escape and scrubbing away the thick layer of dirt and grime on the outside—apparently Hacker liked her sunlight. He still didn't understand why he was willing to do all of this, he would've been satisfied with a pretty basic cleaning rather than this decontamination. Eventually he was able to look through the glass panes and actually watch her as she continued to mop the floor, long, dark ponytail—her bun having fallen out hours earlier—swaying across her back and over her shoulders with the rhythmic movements. Pushing away the feelings that image roused in him, Oliver knocked two knuckles on one pane, getting her attention, and gesturing to the now-clean windows. No, no, his heart _didn't_ skip a beat at the way her face lit up at the crystal-clear glass.

Leaning the mop against the wall, Hacker moved over to the windows, hands on her hips, eyeing the panes approvingly. "_Much_ better!" She turned on the spot, taking in the rest of the space in the now much brighter light. "I think this place might actually be passably habitable now." She turned her blinding grin on his once more.

Oliver thought that her praise probably shouldn't make him feel as good as it did, nor should he find her bright smile so warming, or the streak of dust along the side of her nose so _very_ adorable.

"I think we can call it a day," she decreed, turning back to take care of the mop and bucket.

As Oliver stepped through the window, he readily admitted to himself that the apartment smelled _far_ better than it had before and didn't look nearly as dingy. Along with all of the scrubbing they'd done, Hacker had saturated both the mattress and the couch with Lysol, letting them dry out by the windows.

Returning to the main room from dumping out the mop water, Hacker strode over to the kitchen. "We don't have much in the way of variety of food for this week, but I can get some of those 10-minute noodles going and that should satisfy us."

Oliver half wanted to tell her not to bother on his part, he wasn't really hungry, but an echo of Raisa's voice at the back of his mind reminding him that it was rude to reject food stopped him, and instead he nodded.

It took 12 rather than the promised 10 minutes to cook the noodles, but soon Hacker handed him one cup and claimed the other for herself. She scanned the room, frowning. "It's really inconvenient, not having any chairs or a table. I never really thought about how important they are until now when we have…nothing. You'd think Waller'd give us at least a couple of chairs or stools or something. And we can't really sit on the bed—my bed—because of the sleeping and _sleeping_ connotations," her eyes went wide, "not that _you_ think of me that way or that I think of you that way—not that I _couldn't_ think of you that way because you're…oh, God…3, 2, 1…" She took a deep breath and got back on a, hopefully, safer track. "And we can't sit on the couch because, aside from it being basically your bed…and I will stop that right there…" she cleared her throat, "but it's weird to sit on a couch with nothing to look at like…not TV or anything… And of course," she blushed, "they're probably still a little damp from the Lysol."

The archer wondered if it was possible to be any more surprised by a person in one day. "We can sit out on the fire escape," he quietly interjected.

"Right! Good idea!" Hacker quickly agreed, scurrying over to the window.

Oliver had to catch her elbow to keep her from stumbling as she climbed through, finding her blush and mumbled "thank you" far too endearing for either of their own good. He clench his jaw, tilting his head away from the tantalizing scent that drifted from her, chalking his reaction—all of the various reactions he'd had to her ever since they'd met—to not being with a woman in a year.

She took a seat on one of the steps going up, cup in her lap; Oliver sat with his back against the wall, knees drawn up a bit, wanting to have every possible approach an enemy could take in sight.

"Are you always wound so tight?"

His head whipped around to her questioning expression. "What?"

Hacker fiddled with her fork. "I mean, you're always so…_aware_, and wound like a spring that'll go off at the slightest provocation."

Oliver's grip tightened on his spoon, not angry at her but the memories…

"You don't have to tell me!" she quickly said. "I mean if it's too personal or something, I was just wondering since you always seem on edge."

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, contemplating the noodles in his cup.

Hacker was quiet aside from the occasional slurp of a noodle.

"The island," out of the corner of his eye he could see her head snap up as he spoke, "the one that I was on…things happened and…I don't know how to…stop being aware."

"Oh." It was a quiet, almost breathy sound, but rang with acceptance, and offering him a small smile she went back to her noodles, taking that little bit of himself he gave her without even the slightest hint of disappointment or desire for more.

Oliver was surprised by how good that felt.

-ARROW-

At first Felicity wasn't sure what had awoken her, lying on the lumpy twin mattress, staring up at the ceiling, confusion furrowing her brow. She had no idea of the time, but by the lack of noise from the street, and the fact that the smells from the noodle shop below had diminished, she guessed that it was well past any hour that rational people would be awake.

A muffled groan had her sitting up and head whipping around.

The only light coming into the room was the rhythmic flashing from the neon signs on the adult shop across the street. They sent the shadows into a macabre dance, casting the room in an equally eerie, alternating light. The storm that had rolled in sometime since she fell asleep did nothing to ease the feeling of being in a horror film.

A flash of red illuminating movement on the floor drew her attention.

A huddled figure was tossing and turning on the floor in front of the couch.

No, not _a_ huddled figure…_Archer's_ huddled figure. And from the thrashing of his head and limbs he was in the grips of one hell of a nightmare.

After but a moment's hesitation, Felicity tossed back her covers and rose to her feet, slowly making her way over to Archer. She flinched as some rain was blown through the window, spraying her skin with its chill; she'd need to close it after she made sure that Archer was all right.

Crouching down beside him—still not sure why he was on the floor and not on the couch, though it was wholly possibly that it was more comfortable than the piece of furniture—Felicity began to reach out, but then retracted her hand, biting her lip. She noticed how Archer tended to shy away from physical contact, reticent to allow any, especially that which he didn't initiate himself.

"Archer," she called softly.

No response other than his agitation growing.

"Archer, wake up," Felicity said a bit louder.

Still nothing.

The hacker chewed on her lip before finally, hesitantly, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder saying his name again. "Archer—"

She was cut off as she was abruptly grabbed and flipped onto her back, a hand at her throat with Archer's larger, muscular form looming over her, face cast deeply in shadows.

Somehow through the spike of terror, certain facts registered that had calm falling over her. The first being that he didn't realize it was her, he might technically be awake but he was obviously still caught in the grips of whatever hell his mind had locked him in. Second, his hand, while firm, possibly to the point of bruising, around her throat wasn't squeezing so tight as to make it difficult to breathe.

Swallowing, Felicity slowly lifted her hands to gently lay them atop his wrists at her neck and shoulder, softly calling, "Archer, it's me…Hacker…"

His harsh breathing paused.

Her thumbs rubbed soothing circles over his pulse points. "You were having a nightmare." Though inwardly she wondered if it wasn't more likely his worst memories of whatever had happened to him on that island were haunting his sleeping mind.

Archer was frozen above her for a few heartbeats before all of a sudden he was gone.

Felicity turned her head to find him pressed against a wall where he'd thrown himself away from her, eyes wide with horror.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, guilt and self-disgust thick in his tone.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, but remained where she was, knowing that approaching him right then would be a bad idea. "It's all right. I should've been more careful, you were obviously having a really bad dream."

His jaw set as Archer shook his head. "No, it's not ok, and it's not your fault." He shot to his feet, striding over to his jacket and shoving his feet directly into his boots, having never bothered to remove his cargo pants and T-shirt. He snatched up his jacket and stormed over to the door.

"Archer!" Felicity called after him ineffectually.

The door slammed shut behind him.

She dropped her head with a resigned sigh. Nothing could be simple, could it?

_If my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy  
>Well I deserve nothing more than I get<br>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine_

'_Cause nothing I have is truly mine  
>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine<br>'Cause nothing I have is truly mine…_

-ARROW-

So there you have it! The next chapter of Mixed Tape! :-D Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


End file.
